


STARK

by Akuaxjpg



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Assassin Tony Stark, Bad Decisions, Captivity, Dark Tony Stark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Kidnapped Peter Parker, M/M, Mention of Mental Disorders, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is 17, Sexual Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Tony Kidnaps Peter, Underage - Freeform, a little bit of stony, bad language, dark! tony, kidnapped! Peter Parker, manipulative! Tony, murders, serial killer tony, victim peter parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akuaxjpg/pseuds/Akuaxjpg
Summary: "Are you afraid of me?" The voice asked. In a deep and icy way.A shiver ran through Peter's body."I'm trying not to have it," he replied after swallowing spit .
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 37
Kudos: 129





	1. Synopsis + cover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm from Spain, so, english isnt my first language, this is translated. I tryed my best, so, i hope you can understand all the fic. Thanks ♥  
> ((If you see mistakes, please tell me ))

" **Stark** "

That last name that everyone knew; It had resonated on every channel, on every news, on any radio. Neither the magazines or the newspapers were freed. There was no means of communication that had not mentioned to the great criminal who has been the center of attention for several years. There were even pages on the Internet dedicated to him, his career.

He carried an endless list of victims behind him, to whom he had taken his life in brutal and inhuman ways. Now, on the second anniversary of his entry to prison, Anthony Edward Stark managed to escape mysteriously.

The police are trying to find him anyway, moving heaven and earth. But your efforts are useless, so, **who would tell poor Peter Parker that he would find him?**


	2. 0. Foreword

The night had fallen in the small town hours ago. The cloak of darkness created by the clouds was responsible for giving the streets a horror movie atmosphere. In addition, a layer of thick fog was added.

By the way, summer was not being strictly hot this year, it was barely eleven o'clock at night and if you wanted to go outside, you would have to shelter yourself with something more than a jacket. In short, climate change making its own.

Silence endured in the streets, occasionally a car broke it. Possibly they were people who came from work in a nearby town and headed to their residence, but soon they would sleep leaving the town in extreme calm. Like always. But tonight was different. At about one o'clock in the morning a taxi stopped in one of the central streets, the engine stayed on while the back door opened, revealing a figure. It was not distinguished whether male or female, between the hat and the large raincoat was impossible. He lowered a small sports bag and extended his hand to pay the driver.

"I don't know how you might have liked this town, gentleman. This place is in the middle of nowhere " commented the man, counting the money while stretching his arm to score the coins and return the change to the mysterious figure he had brought for several kilometers.

" Melancholy" he replied. His voice was serious and too apathetic ", I frequented this place with my parents when I was a child " he informed before giving him a smile and closing the door. "Have a good trip back."

The car gave full beams to him for a second, returning to normal lights quickly, saying goodbay. The car started again, getting lost in the darkness of the night.

The man was walking for more than an hour, wandering at night. His memory was failing him and he couldn't find the place that was in his head. He clicked his tongue on the palate several times, the site could not be far. He regretted not having made the taxi leave it closer, it would have saved time, but he had to avoid risks or possible witnesses. Although, deep down, he knew that among the extra clothes, the glasses and the small facial prosthesis he had bought from an acquaintance as he escaped from prison, no one would suspect.

Finally, on the outskirts, walking among dry branches, the noise of the forest guided him to the doors of a small cabin. He left the bag on the ground and with his hands tried to remove the branches that covered the entrance to avoid small tenants. He managed to put them aside.

"At last," he thought. A malicious smile formed on his face and after several knocks on the door, he managed to dislodge it. It was cold, but he could finally be between four walls that were not those of the jail. His stomach roared and he blamed himself for not buying anything. He searched in the backpack on the floor and took out a flashlight. He entered the cabin completely, dragging the door to close the house and light the lantern.

"Wow," he whispered reluctantly when he noticed the horrible state of the facility; rusty and broken crystals. Also, because of the background noise, he imagined there were rodents. He snorted and with the flashlight in his hand, he walked towards the room. He could only sleep until there was natural light. He pulled the protective cloth off the bed, he couldn't even remember when he put it on. Years ago.

Luckily, the protector and the closed door had been very useful to make possible the maintenance of the room. He removed the prosthesis from his nose and sent the hat to the ground.

Anthony Stark was tired of the busy days he had had and, at least for now, he was only going to rest. After three days moving around the country wpiyhout it, dodging and escaping from the authorities, he deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥  
> If you see mistakes or a better way to say something, please let me know ♥


	3. I - Sighting

For Peter Parker - and any other normal teenager - the news that he was going to waste part of his summer in a desert place, and away from everything, was not good at all. He doesn't have big social plans, but, of course if there was the slightest chance of having them, they were fading away as the car he was in was moving away from his house. His little apartment in Queens was getting further away.

His eyes did not rise from the small phone in his hands. Isolated from its surroundings thanks to the popular music of the 80s that sounded in his headphones. Even with this whole scene, he added a serious countenance, like angry. He removed his right headphone when he heard the voice of his aunt in the background, unable to understand it because the music.

"... you can't be angry the whole trip, Peter." His aunt's eyes didn't take off from the road. The boy snorted; answer whatever he answered, there would be an argument or an emotional talk about why he should enjoy the trip.

"We're going to nowhere," he replied "the most exciting thing that can happen is that I get angry." After a click of his lips, he chose to relax again. He sighed. "Sorry, May. It's just ... I had plans with MJ.”

“Oh sweetheart... “her aunt sweetened her voice “I'm sorry, I didn't know. It's only going to be three weeks, Peter”

Again, a snort. Headphones in his ears and your eyes looking through the window. Increasingly and further away from civilization, Peter wondered if spending three weeks in town would be just as boring as when he was little. And the answer for him was obvious.

At least, he had been aware and had brought two blank notebooks; one to write and another one to draw. Several portable chargers, just in case. A phone card with internet. Surely there would be no internet in the house ... And anyway, with all this things, it would be boring. He had forgotten his little briefcase with some tools so, his casual mechanic jobs that he likes to do so much would be unlikely.

He did not know how long he had been trying to isolate himself, but, when he contemplated his aunt's frown face, while he was fiddling with the radio, he brought him back to reality. He payed attention. His aspirations to be a journalist increased with news like this; keep track of the murderer, write the news about his crimes, try to expand his image to help people find him… Although photographing the crime scene that the voice was describing would be quite hard but, luckily, that really would never be his job. Being part of the forensic police also caught his attention, but not so much. Precisely for having very little resistance to macabre scenes.

_"... That is why we insist on reminding you that he is a violent and very dangerous criminal. His escape from the HDM prison on Rikers Island two days ago is still a complete mystery. His track was lost, although there have been alleged sightings by witnesses in Philadelphia, Texas, in the small town of Boiceville ... and even in international territory from Canada to Mexico._ "

"Boiceville? This is next to where we are going” commented her aunt with concern.

"Sure is a fake sighting, May. You have already heard that they have supposedly seen him elsewhere.”

"I hope it's fake… Shokan has always been a quiet place and news like this would only attract attention and people"

However, Peter payed more attention to the radio, interested in what they were saying.

" _We remind you that the trajectory of Anthony Stark is very wide and has had many brutal deaths. From impassement to beatings, so, if you see it, do not hesitate to get safe and call emergency services immediately."_

He swallowed slipt, thinking about how someone could be so gross and also get away with it. He fantasized for a few seconds what it would be like to have it in front of him. And only with a blurred vision, his heart was spinning. He had been on the lookout for this criminal since he had memory, somehow you could say that Peter had certain, admiration? Not really, he was horrified by what Stark does, but it was curious that someone could kill so much without stopping.

Peter was not surprised that Stark had escaped, he faced one life imprisonment. And the state was about to judge its death penalty.

The total number of victims was unknown, but it was known to be a high number. Of more than three figures. His motives were unknown; many psychological records that Peter had read referred to a high degree of psychopathy and now, that monster was hidden. It was an interesting situation, one of those that makes you anxious to know more, but if you get to know everything ... your blood freezes.

Finally, the trip came to an end. Although he had been entertained by the radio, Peter felt the need to stretch his legs. The landscape was beautiful; the green stood out thanks to the trees and there was even a lake. At that time, Peter remembered the nature reserve he visited with his parents when he was a child. A nostalgic smile landed on his lips as he remembered the day he fell into the lake trying to fish. His hand remained on his cheek, looking out the window. At last it seemed to reach a more civilized site, still in nature but the houses took center stage.

"It's beautiful, right?It doesn't look like Queens. ”said his aunt in a cheerful tone.

"It's been a long time since we came ..." he commented, still absorbed in the landscape. The sky was a bit cloudy, but it still looked beautiful.

“Yes… My work and your studies have been a headache for our rest”

They drove towards the end of the town, moving away from the houses and passing through a path surrounded by forest. Peter frowned, not remembering exactly where his house was. There really were few trees to be considered forest, yes, but it seemed like one. The wheels of the car began to bounce when them entered a dirt road. There were very few "houses" and much distance between them. Rather, they were cabins. There was a grimace in May's eyes.

"I am thinking that I have to make this trip to go shopping, or approach the town and I regret coming." He sighed heavily "By the way, do you remember Mr. Tods?" Peter nodded, although his memory was very vague "He has invited us to his house. I warned him that we were coming and-"

"Oh no ..." the young man whispered. He wrinkles his nose "do I have to go?"

“I wish I didn't have to go alone, but I'm not going to force you to come, Peter.”

A slight feeling of guilt, Peter ignored her. He didn't feel like going out. In general he did not feel like the trip, obviously, but socializing? Pff, no.

May parked the car in front of a house wasted by the years; at the time the cabin must have been blue, or that's how Peter remembered it. There were small dry branches on the ground and a very noticeable musty smell. He examined the terrain; there were other cabins around, but there was a lot of distance between them. Specifically the one in front was very wasted, it looked scary. He twisted his lips, he didn't want to be here, between the memories and the boredom that awaited him ... he knew he wouldn't have a good time.

"It's only three weeks," he said to himself. He exhaled and followed his aunt into the house.

(...)

Since he woke up in the morning, the killer had inspected the house thanks to natural light. There were quite a few flaws, but everything was fixable. He didn't plan on staying in the house for long, but he still cleaned as much as he could. He ran a cloth through some furniture and removed the white sheets on top of several furniture. It was a safe place for a few days and was free of unexpected visits or, I thought so.

He ran the giddy curtain slightly when he heard a car in the distance. Even with nerves inside for fear that it was the police, his countenance was totally blank. He smiled loudly as he watched two people get out of the car. A house with people indicated a house with resources, and Tony was hungry. Because of the light that filtered the clouds, it must be in the afternoon and his head was quick to make a plan; Tonight he would come in and steal something to eat. And maybe some of the medicine cabinet.

He would not intend to kill, that would be to attract attention. But if there were the situation of having to do it, I would not hesitate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is a translation; If something is wrongly written, please let me know. My level of English is poor):
> 
> ♥


	4. II - Rapture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is a translation; If something is wrongly written, please let me know. My level of English is poor):

Peter threw himself back against the sofa and shifted until he was staring up at the ceiling. He was dead tired, he had to give a review to the whole house and after three hours, the dust had disappeared from the place. Luckily the cabin was small, but even so the aromas of closed next to the humidity were very present. He snorted and stared at the junction of the walls to the ceiling; there were some stains and cobwebs.

"Disgusting" he complained. The boy had a great fear of spiders, and thinking about all the insects that could be in the house overwhelmed him excessively.

He looked at the watch on top of the TV and then the one on his wrist; he had set the time correctly. It was almost eight o'clock. May was leaving the party shortly and Peter was rethinking everything; He wouldn't admit it, but he was afraid of being alone in such a remote and cold place.

Besides, he had a bad feeling. Like a bad omen. In general, Peter used to have a very good instinct, but at the same time, laziness fused with the occasional symptoms of social anxiety, they were not going to let him leave the house.

No way would he get into a place he didn't know with people he didn't know either.

Luckily for him, they managed to restore electricity before being completely alone, so TV was to be his best ally. He got up from the couch and slowly, reluctantly walked towards his aunt.

"You look very pretty, May." the boy praised when he saw his aunt with her hair down and a black dress that fell above the knee. "Although I think you will have a hard time driving with that" he said, pointing to the heels she was wearing. His aunt smiled at him.

"It's just for testing, when I'm going to go out I'll wear trainers to drive, honey. We women have very complicated footwear when we relate it to driving. When you go out with MJ remember to drive yourself." she joked hugging the boy "aren't you coming?" His nephew shook his head "Well, whatever happens, I take my phone, okay?"

Peter nodded. She hugged him again and kissed his cheek to say goodbye, change shoes on one of the kitchen chairs and leave the house. Peter's eyes roamed the car parked outside from the window. He heard the engine start, the headlights came on, and the vehicle rolled over and disappeared from sight.

He pursed his lips and his eyes moved up, taking in the view, until he saw the cabin in front of their house. He felt tightness in his chest. It was far away, but still considered a neighboring house. He wondered if it was better to knock it down, it appeared to be in terrible condition. And he swore to see something move. But no, it was impossible, it was abandoned.

The more he looked at the cabin, the more his heart beat faster. It was his thing, a guess, but he was afraid. He drew the curtain and went over to the door to lock it. Peter was generally very careful about security, but right now he was feeling excessively paranoid; Although it was not the same to be alone in an apartment, with neighbors, than in the middle of the forest where with luck you have cockroaches and rats as neighbors. He paced the ground floor, making sure all the windows were closed.

Right now he hated himself for not going with his aunt.

He sighed and groped around the house, went upstairs; just to keep an eye on the second floor. It was very difficult for someone to climb to the second floor without being heard. Although in young Parker's mind, paranormal accidents also gnawed at his head. He threw himself against what was to be his bed, face down.

"I hate this." he told himself. He raised his head and spotted his backpack. He got up to rummage through it and took out one of the blank notebooks, a pencil case, and his phone. He went down to the living room again and curled up in a corner of the sofa, he threw a blanket over him that he had previously taken from the backrest and began to look for photos on the phone to draw them, it was a good hobby. But he still felt scared and alone. He turned on the television on any channel, and it was precisely the 24-hour news channel. He also wanted it to leave it playing in the background, so he did not give it importance, although most of the cases dealt with were murders, and with fear in the body, it was not the best.

His mind began to plan crazy ideas about those cases. He liked to think about what might be behind it, curiosity was a characteristic of him, of course. On a blank sheet of paper, he began to write down the names of murderers and their victims. Until the star case arrived, of course, Anthony Stark.

"Stark ..." He tapped the tip of his pen against his lower lip as he paid attention to the television. They were talking about how he could have escaped from HDM Rikers. Escaping from prison was very very difficult, but escaping from a prison that was on an island? If there was no divine intervention, it was because Stark was the devil himself.

Quickly Peter started looking on his phone about the jail, he looked up the island on Google maps. It did seem difficult to escape from there, but how did he do it? Peter fiddled with the pen in his free hand as he fantasized and imagined. Sure he must have a thousand buddies out, yes that must be it. With a boat, a launch, or something like that. Maybe even a secret passageway under the water, but that was very surreal.

Finally, amid the warmth of the blanket, which had already passed two hours, and he was tired from the journey and the maintenance of the house, he fell asleep. He curled up tiny on the brown sofa and his head ended up on the armrest. Her eyelids closed and her breathing slowed.

(....)

It had been a long afternoon. Stark found himself pinching the bridge of his nose, as he looked through the broken window at the doomed house in front. His guts roared in despair and he wondered if killing two people for a paltry sandwich was going too far.

He had collected several things already. This little refuge had come in handy for him and, until he was able to reconnect with certain people, he planned to stay here. Thanks to his intellect, he could do great things on his own, but escaping the country was too much. He would need help.

He moved away from the window hole as soon as he detected movement in the house. Under no circumstances could he allow himself to be seen. He stood behind the broken door and smiled. The car's engine started and he could hear it driving away.

"Magnificent," he whispered with a slight smile. He walked to his room and took the pistol he had previously prepared. The house is supposed to be empty, but, just in case. He stared at it for several minutes, remembering when he had used it. It was one of the first guns he had.

He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He slipped the gun into his belt holster. He went to the door and dragged the piece of wood as quietly as he could. Once outside he sighed and approached the house, it was dark and the cold hit his face. Dry leaves and twigs on the ground creaked against the soles of his worn sneakers. He was examining the whole cabin from outside; the windows they had were closed and at a considerable distance to climb up to. This cabin was different from his; it had a porch and a level compared to the ground, while hers was at ground level.

The good part about this type of construction is that...

"Bingo." His lips formed a smile when he saw the exterior doors to the basement on the floor. He fiddled with the rusty padlock a bit, and after shoving a small piece of wire through the hole, the doors were open in the blink of an eye. He regretted not bringing a flashlight but slowly began to walk around the place. And, once below, he saw a fine line of light, very dim, symbolizing where the access door to the house was.

With light and without a starving stomach, he would have searched the entire basement, trying to find things that would suit him, but hunger was killing him after so many hours without eating. He went up the stairs, with a slight stumble in the middle, but nothing remarkable. He tried to regulate his breathing when he took the doorknob, it must be totally silent. He turned it as he pushed the door open and until he breathed in a cleaner environment, he hadn't noticed the strong smell of humidity and dust in the basement air. He wanted to cough, but caught himself the moment he heard voices. He frowned and walked into the living room to find the television on, but apparently no one was there. He smiled when he saw that it was him they were talking about, but quickly returned to his work. There didn't appear to be anyone downstairs, so they were either upstairs or the television was left on. He peered down the stairs in silence, and after several minutes of hearing nothing, he assumed it was his second choice.

The first stop was the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and reveled in the various options. He pulled canned food, a total of 5. And just at that moment, he prepared two sandwiches which took less than 5 minutes to devour. He walked around the floor again, calmer knowing he was alone. He went into the bathroom and took the opportunity to wash his face and wash a little, really, taking a shower would be too much but the desire was not lacking.

He tried to leave everything as he found it and left the bathroom. He walked determined to the kitchen, ready to go. What was his surprise that he stopped in his tracks when he saw it. From the corner of his eye he saw a figure rise from the sofa in front of the TV in what was the living room.

He breathed in and hid inside the bathroom again, behind the door. He heard footsteps and the next thing was the living room light was off.

He cursed himself completely, he couldn't be seen. If the boy saw it, he should take care of him. He needed to stay in the cabin at least one more day. He felt the pistol with his fingertips and thought for a moment, killing him would be getting attention. He heard him speak.

"May? Have you already returned?"

It was a very sweet voice with a hint of drowsiness; it must have been someone young "Maaay?" He could face it perfectly in case of confrontation. He wanted to wait to see if he would go away, but it didn't seem like it.

He analyzed the situation well; the boy was alone at home. It was a piece of cake to get rid of him. He had to leave the place before that "May" arrived. Two against one, he would still win, possibly, but again, attracting attention that way was not the best.

Another idea rolled through his head; he didn't have to eliminate the boy. Just keep him captive one day and when he leaves this place, let him go. By the time he went to testify, Tony would be far away.

However, all ideas vanished the moment he saw a hand reach out to turn on the switch. He quickly brought his hand to the gun and drew it out. He stretched out his arm and aimed directly at the boy's head.

For Peter the world stopped for a moment, he stared straight ahead for a few seconds until he dared to look to his left and, his legs faltered completely; with his right hand he grabbed the sink to avoid falling. He let out a little cry - the voice didn't give him for more at that moment - and he froze.

For Stark, the reaction was totally common, but he could swear it had never been so adorable. The boy's paleness intensified and his eyes were wide.

"H-hello," he inaudibly escaped from the minor's lips. On the verge of having a heart attack, he was able to speak. Tony smiled and almost laughed out loud.

"How well educated," he commented, amused. "Are you alone at home?"

Peter wanted to lie, perhaps with more people at home, the invader would flinch and run away. Or maybe not. He tried to reply, but he got so stuck that he ended up nodding, his body shaking the whole time.

"Good." He waved the gun, pointing out. "To the kitchen, now."

Someone else would already be on his knees whining and begging for his life, which Anthony loved. But the boy's obedience aroused other emotions, equally satisfying.

Once in the room, with white light, he inspected the boy from top to bottom. He didn't focus on how cute the kid was to him, as the next steps he was about to take would be crucial. He needed to focus.

"Calm down, I don't plan on killing you" he tried to calm him down when he saw that the boy was on the edge of a panic attack. Besides that his breathing was getting worse. "Who is May? Will she be back soon?" Peter swallowed hard, closed his eyes and tried to calm himself so he could answer.

"It's ... it's m-my aunt. S-she went to a party and-and I don't know when she'll be back-“ he started to have spasms with fear. Added to that his eyes were crystallizing, crying. Tony looked at one of the clocks, it was twenty past ten. Possibly far to come back. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Okay, you're going to come with me," he said. Peter's gaze was totally saddened, still terrified, and an inaudible "no" escaped from his mouth.

Stark ignored him completely. "Your name?"

"P-please sir ... no-I won't say anything." Tears escaped his eyes.

"Your name," he demanded again, raising the pistol at the boy.

"P-Peter," he lowered his head, he was 'fiddling' with his hands. Due to strength and nervousness, he had come to bleed.

"Easy, Peter. I won't hurt you if you don't provoke it. ”He looked at his watch again and eyed the boy; He was in a loose shirt and pajama bottoms. Continuing to watch him askance, he searched over the furniture, until he saw a plastic bag sticking out of a drawer. He took it quickly and dumped the cans he had previously placed.

"Your room?" Peter looked at him confused. "Where is your room?" He asked again, more upset.

"On the second floor," he answered in a thin voice.

"Come on," he ordered, the boy started walking and they went up the stairs. Tony had to hold the boy at first, his legs were shaking too much "I already told you I'm not fucking going to hurt you," he scolded. They entered his room. “ You have two minutes to change into normal clothes, now.”

Peter looked at him again in confusion, but obeyed. He was scared to death, he had fantasized about having this guy in front of him, thousands of times, and he had the terrible luck that the capricious destiny fulfilled that fantasy.

He just wanted everything to pass now, he needed to relax, he still didn't understand how he hadn't had an anxiety attack. Fear merged with shame as he was taking off his baggy pajama pants, with the eyes of the man who was pointing a gun at him. Re reached into his bag and pulled out some black jeans, another shirt, jacket, and sat on the edge of the bed to change into some sneakers. All dark in color. He got up and looked worriedly at the older man.

"Stop crying, you’re a good boy." he praised, with a smile on his lips, "Don't you have a coat?" Peter nodded and went over to the closet and took it, it was the first thing he hung up when he came to this house. Tony was fascinated with the boy's obedience, he was trusting himself, his body was not shaking so much at the moment. He pointed the gun at the door and Peter stepped out, with him behind. "It's going to be a long night, Peter." he whispered. His voice was deep and serious. A chill ran through Peter, he was about to cry again. He felt the gun at the back of his neck as Stark gave him specific orders on how to proceed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading ♥


	5. III-Evasion

It was cold. Very, very cold. Because of the tension, it was normal for young Parker to have a numb and sore body. Above, the uncertainty caused by the darkness of the place did not help. He needed, as minium, to be able to see the room he was in. But instead, only a faint glimmer of light saw in the distance, occasionally cut off by a shadow passing by. His entire body was still trembling. The only sound his ears could pick up was his own breathing; irregular, clumsy and fast. He was trying to calm himself down, but adding the mouth gag, plus the handcuffs on the wrists and a tie on the feet, was difficult. His mind could only think of the idea of escaping, running away, being safe.

Yes, the man had told him he did not plan to kill him, but come on, could a murderer's word be trusted? It was a matter of time before Peter was a hindrance to the guy and Stark decided to add his name to the long list of his victims.

He shifted on the bed, he was choking, he needed to sit up whatever. He snaked until he hit the wall or perhaps the headboard and crawled away as his back leaned, finally managing to get up. He thought he closed his eyes - although the darkness had him quite confused with when they were open and when not - he lowered his head a little and tried to puff up air, slowly. But his attempt was unsuccessful when he tried to cough; the spasms weren't going to leave him alone. He was drowning in despair.

He heard footsteps coming and could almost swear he would have a heart attack. His heart was beating very very strong and fast, the body trembling increased and despite the cold, he was sweating. He tried to regulate the gasps and sobs to focus on just that. He gave a little cry when he felt the bed sag. The next thing he felt was pressure on his shoulders, his body was being moved. He tried to resist, but a complaint coming from the older man's mouth was enough to make him stay completely still.

"You're very raw" the murderer chided him when he saw the reddish liquid on his wrists. Peter Felt the cloth that was his gag disappears, he began to take deep breaths. He opened his eyes and the candlelight almost blinded him. He ran over the opposite body from bottom to top until she met his face, it looked annoyed.

"Please ..." he begged very weakly.

"We're going out tomorrow so if I were you, I'd be sleeping, kid” his voice sounded calm, much softer than before, but it still terrified him. Peter tried to see her body in the light. He caught a glimpse of the small glow of the handcuffs.

"Seriously," he stammered, still between sobs, "L-Let me go ... I won't say n-nothing."

Stark smiled cynically, took the chandelier, and started to leave the room. But something startled him, Peter looked at him confused. Tony blew out the candle and, still in the dark, took the child's body and threw himself with it to the ground. Parker wanted to complain and stir, but Tony's hand covered his mouth and fear was once again ravaging his body. He could hear the older man's breathing very loudly; he was on top of him. Peter didn't understand anything.

Until he heard a female voice calling him from outside. Despair was noticeable in her voice. He could see flashes of light on the wall in front of the window.

May...

"Peter! Peeeter!" his voice cracking, Peter realized that his aunt must be crying.

Peter would have tried to scream. He wanted to get out of there and run into his aunt's arms to cry. The tightness in his chest would disappear the moment he felt she was calm, that she was fine, he knew it. He heard her voice approach and approach, she would be passing right where they were, but with a wall in between, she didn't even know how close they were. Peter shifted slightly and Tony increased his grip, to the point of hurting him.

"Not a sound," he demanded in a low voice.

The nervousness lessened as the woman left the house, the footsteps and the crying lost in the silence of the night. Peter was crying again. Tony got off him and lifted him back onto the bed, laying him on his back.

"Are you over 18 years old?" He asked seriously. The slight light that filters through the window is enough for Tony's eyes to see Peter’s head shaking — Shit...

Peter heard a lighter trying to light and the candlelight blinded him again.

"Try to sleep," the assassin ordered before leaving the room.

Peter's answer had startled him. With an adult, the police take the search more relaxed, but a minor.... As soon as his beloved aunt wants to report the disappearance, he will have several agents prowling around the area and that will screw absolutely everything, of course.

On the one hand, he could take everything he needed and leave. Leaving the kid tied up in bed to have a little more time. But as soon as the police found him and the boy spoke, they would know where to track him from. He sat down in one of the old armchairs and set the chandelier on the table in front. He inhaled, exhaled, and so on repeatedly, thinking.

Leaving the boy here was not a good idea. Of course. But take it with you ... Tony had never worked with hostages, other than robberies. A disappearance would open up a search operation, but fake a death? No, it was too difficult. But not fake it and carry it out? It was unnecessary. Killing the boy would take less than two minutes, but is it worth killing him just to have a day or two to get away? The police would soon connect the murder to him, no matter how foolish they were. It's the same as releasing him but with less time.

Deep down, he didn't want to admit it, but there was something that made him not want to kill the boy. Taking it was going to be the best idea. But he had to do it right. Not all disappearances were made known and were featured in the media, but if Peter's disappearance succeeded in such luck, it would be his curse.

He got up quickly and using the light he had started to pick things up. He opened a black sports backpack, which was already badly damaged, and began to fill it; the food he had stolen, the few things he had previously brought and, at that moment,

He remembered the concrete hatches he had put in the last time he came here. With the candelabrum in hand again, he toured the place. There was one on the ceiling, on the living room floor, under the carpet, a false bottom in a kitchen cupboard...

He still remembered when he placed all that and he felt like an idiot, because he thought he was throwing the merchandise away, who was going to tell him that he was going to return to this place? And with a hostage. He splintered his hands trying to lift the hatch off the ground, it was stuck. He had to come up with cutlery to finally open it, and his smile was sublime when he uncovered it. A Walther P99 with several ammo on the side. He was not sentimental, but many memories came to him with that gun. He took it and covered everything again.

He added a small medicine cabinet, what he had stolen from Peter's house, two small chargers and a notebook with phone numbers.

At that moment he remembered the closet in the room; perhaps there were still useful garments. He went quickly to the site, seeing the boy's eyes sparkle, thanks to the candlelight.

"I thought I ordered you to sleep" if it weren't for the sound of sobs and heavy breathing, there would be total silence. Peter was terrified.

Tony tried to observe and analyze what was inside the closet, but his lighting was too poor. And so it was, looking at all the clothes. It smelled stuffy and musty, but they were more or less decent. He put aside all the shirts that were in good condition and two or three jeans that could be worth him. He also chose a leather jacket, very worn, but better than nothing. Then he spotted other pants folded at the bottom, with cobwebs on top. He smiled at the memory of the girl he brought here the last time he came and reached down to pick them up.

And there he thought. The boy could fit these clothes and then ... He turned to look at him and there they were, those puppy dog eyes fixed on him. He smirked and closed the door behind him. He walked to the bed, rummaged in his pocket, taking the key out of the handcuffs.

"I'm going to untie you, but you have to be good," he threatened. He inserted the key and released his hands, wrists were still bleeding "Beast ..." he scolded. He lowered his arms and began to undo the sheet from his feet that simulated a rope. “Get up”

Peter hesitated, but ended up obeying. The trembling returned.

"I've already told you that if you don't provoke me, I'm not going to hurt you." He reached for a T-shirt and the tight jean. "Change your clothes." Seeing the slowness of the boy, he helped him take off his jacket and shirt with a complaint, and passed is by the bloody wrists, trying to clean them. He tossed the shirt on the mattress. Peter took off his pants little by little and reached for the new one. Once done, he put on the shirt that Tony offered him. It was huge and the smell disliked him, but he put it on. He put his jacket back on when the older man offered it to him and looked at him fearfully, offering his hands voluntarily. "Good boy," he praised, closing the handcuffs.

Tony went out for the gym bag still in the dark and carried it into the room to take out the new textile purchases.

"We're going to go," he informed. He frowned when he saw the boy's coat at the end of the bed and took it, with his jeans and T-shirt. He took the flashlight while holding Peter up with his free hand. He moved the halo of the lantern across the room and blew out the candle. He imitated this action in the living room, and finally, they left the house.

He was wary that the police weren't around and, he was lucky, they were being slow or Peter's aunt hadn't called them yet. He saw several lights in the boy's cabin on and then he smiled; without the police and the woman hanging around, his way would be totally free.

The first thought that circled his head might throw him off the path he had outlined in his head, but it would be worth it. He grabbed the kid's forearm again and started walking, pulling him.

Peter did not take his eyes off what was his house, how would May be? God ... he really had heard her devastated. Sure she was blaming herself for his absence, she sure was crying and desperate. And it broke his heart. He looked down to see Stark's hand gripping him tightly, it hurt, but he was afraid to complain.

The faint light from the sky gave a subtle glimpse into the shadows of the trees, but Tony quickly turned on the flashlight as he walked away from the cabins. Peter frowned and steeled himself.

“Where are we going?” He asked in a thin voice.

"No questions." The harshness of her voice hit him like a punch. He swallowed again and simply let himself be guided. They walked for a long time, Peter lost track, but at least half an hour. Or more.

Finally, they approached the great lake of the reserve. The light was reflected in the slight swell of the water. Finally the musty smell was pleasant. Peter smiled very weakly, but happy, nostalgic. That lake was special. Tony released him and he went still; the creaking of the floor would give him away fast enough for the killer to have time to draw his gun and exterminate him. He frowned as he saw her place the clothes on the ground, dipping them in the lake earlier.

“Wh-what?” He asked doubtfully.

"I said no questions," he answered curtly. He took a sigh and examined the scene "Well, now to the city" he turned around and held the child again to walk in the direction they came. Peter was surprised, not understanding the nothing.

Again, a long walk awaited them ahead. This time, he could swear they had been walking for hours. In complete silence. From time to time I heard the older man whisper intelligible things, plus his breathing. But of course what bothered him the most was his own heartbeat, it was a complete tachycardia and now he was adding the pain in his legs from walking, and the cold. His bones were sore, as were his wrists. And the tension was killing him.

How is it possible that this man seemed to be doing so well? How could he bear the burden of being wanted? of apparently not having slept and not looking fatigued?

In addition, in the police photos and those that spread the news, he looks like a tramp; long hair and weeks of beard, but the man in front of him had no trace of this; a slight beard on his chin and mustache, short hair thrown back ... How had he been able to escape from prison only days ago? At what point had he had time for this?

Finally, Peter glimpsed lights at the end of the darkness, it was the town. He glanced at his watch; five thirty in the morning. People were sure to get up, they would see him and call the police and he could get rid of this guy and go back into May's arms, yes.

They stopped in front of a dark van. Tony looked at the car. He released his grip again and opened the backpack to rummage through it. He took out a very small briefcase which when opened, there were tools. He took out a flat-bladed screwdriver and felt for the car lock.

“Are you going to steal it?” He asked incredulously.

"Have you seen? I know how to do more than kill, amazing" he joked. He fiddled around for a few minutes until ... "Good" he whispered to open it for the shooter "I've been stealing cars since I was 15, kid." reported proudly. He used the lock on the driver's door to open all the car locks. "To the passenger seat, now," he ordered. Peter looked at him doubtfully, and looked at the houses in that area. All the lights off He only had to obey again. At least the inside of the car was warm. Stark opened the trunk and put down his bag, raincoat, and hat. He walked forward and sat in the driver's seat. "Don't close the door yet." He put his hands under the steering wheel and Peter realized he was bridging.

Still scared, he was surprised when the van pulled away. Stark smirked. An order to close the door and it took off.

Peter took a deep breath, still scared.

"The belt, kid. And you should sleep, I insist."

“Do you want me to sleep so it's easier to kill me?” He blame himself inwardly, but the question had come up by itself.

"How adorable you are, killing you would only take me two minutes, and your state would not matter to me" He answered neutrally looking at the road. Peter swallowed hard and looked out the window.

Silence reigned again.

“What was your name?” He could tell that she glanced at him.

"Peter ..." He sighed.

"You don't shake so much anymore," he highlighted, smiling. "I'm doing something wrong." He dropped the steering wheel with one hand and pointed to himself. "My name is Tony."

-I know...

“Fanatic?” He questioned self-centered.

"Mhh," he growled slightly. The heater in the van was on. After so many strong emotions, he was still tense, but the heat calmed his body. Falling asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥  
> If you see mistakes or a better way to say something, please let me know ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥


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